The Associate Job Series
by Vashti
Summary: When Eliot is desperately injured, the Leverage team is forced to bring in some backup to cover him.
1. Know Somebody

**Title:** Know Somebody  
 **Series:** The Associate Job  
 **Author:** Vashti  
 **Fandom:** Leverage  
 **Character(s):** Nathan Ford, Eliot Spencer, Buffy Summers, Leverage Team  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Summary:** When Eliot is desperately injured, he forces Nate to find a replacement hitter instead of taking lower profile jobs.  
 **Length:** ~1,230 words  
 **Disclaimer:** Only the words are mine, and that's probably up for philosophical debate.  
 **Notes:** Written for the August 2017 TwistedShorts ficathon.

* * *

Nate watched Eliot sleep from his vaguely uncomfortable. His hands itched to smooth dark hair, touch the creased forehead. If it was Hardison lying there, broken and surrounded by machines, he would have done it. Hardison, however, wouldn't have attempted to break his hand on contact, only to hurt himself more.

Eliot had literally taken the fall for them. Now he was lying broken in a hospital bed under an assumed name. He was Scott Nathanson, and Nate was his brother Brian Nathanson. It was a sign of how bad off Eliot was that he'd only managed a grunt when he'd heard his temporary name. Hardison had been disappointed.

"Go home, Nate," Eliot rasped, startling the man.

Who, instead of leaving, stood and came closer to where Eliot was lying. "You should be asleep."

"Been tortured with better."

"Ah."

Silence fell between them, then Nate said, "Does that mean you were awake when the others were here?"

"Aware of them. Not exactly awake."

"Ah."

Silence again. "So, uh…your cover is good for as long as you need to stay here, but of course we're hoping you get out sooner than later. We'll take some lower profile jobs until you're fully recovered-"

"Got coverage."

"Um, what?"

"Call this number," he rattled off a phone number then made Nate repeat back to him until he could do it perfectly, twice in a row. "Ask for Buffy."

"Eliot, we can afford not to take a few jobs for a while. Get some downtime. Let Hardison work on his background profiles. Parker can get some harness work in. Sophie can admire some local art and practice not stealing it. It'll be good for the team."

"What about clients? They need us."

"Eliot-"

"Call them."

"Fine, I'll call. But only if you promise to get some actual sleep."

"Nate-"

"I'll even make sure they send you a pretty nurse for the sponge bath."

Eliot began to smile, then winced. This time Nate did give into the urge to touch his friend, his "brother" and gently closed his hand around Eliot's left bicep - one of the few areas not broken, bruised or otherwise cut.

"Call them."

Nate sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I'll call."

Hardison took the slip of paper from Nate's hand. "What's this?"

"Someone Eliot wants us to call."

Sophie, sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea and a book, sat up to look over the back of the sofa. "He woke up?"

Nate moved to stand closer to her. "Apparently he was never very deeply asleep. He said he knew that you were all there but wasn't strong enough, I guess, to really wake up."

Frowning, Sophie said, "I wish that were a good thing, but I'm certain the doctors wouldn't drug him without cause! He should have been out like a light!"

"According to Eliot, he suffered worse under torture."

Both Hardison and Sophie winced. Hardison buried his head in his screens while Sophie sighed.

"Hey…hey Nate. I got something." Hardison gestured for him to come closer.

"Why are we interested in a Hellmouth?" Parker said over Hardison's shoulder.

Which had Hardison nearly falling out of his chair. "Woman! What did I say about that?"

"We've never talked about Hellmouths before," she said, shaking her head as she moved away. "Boys. So weird. Right Sophie?" she said as she jumped on the sofa, knees first.

"Uh, sure."

"Hardison," Nate said, "what did you find?"

"Uh, that number Eliot gave you? It's for a school."

"A school?"

"Yeah, in Cleveland."

"Ohio?"

"Everyone's favorite." Hardison looked over his shoulder at Nate. "You still wanna call them?"

Nate pinched the bridge of his nose. "I promised Eliot that I would."

"All right man." Then a second later, "It's dialing."

Parker shook her head. "Even I know dialing a Hellmouth is a bad idea."

Just then the line picked up. A young sounding feminine voice said, "The Joyce Summers School for Gifted and Talented Young Women." Nate hit the speaker button as she was speaking. "How can I help you?"

"Hi, uh, I'm looking for someone named…Buffy?"

"Uh, why are you looking for someone named Buffy?"

"Actually it's Eliot Spencer who's looking for her."

"Uh, okay. Gimme a sec, 'kay?"

"Yeah, su-" but they were listening to hold music before Nate could finish agreeing.

The team shared a look between them. Nate indicated that Hardison should mute their end of the call. "Well, Parker, it looks like you're right about this being a Hellmouth. This is possibly the worst hold music ever."

A satisfied smirk crossed the young woman's face as the line was picked up again. "Hey Eliot. How did you get my number?"

Hardison indicated that he had taken their end off mute. "You'll have to ask him the next time you see him."

She sounded defensive when she said, "And who's this?"

"Nathan Ford, his, uh…coworker."

"Coworker? Eliot didn't really seem like the coworker kinda guy when I met him."

"Okay, more like teammate."

The woman snorted. "Yeah, okay, mabes. And what exactly do you do?"

Around him, the team grinned. "We provide…leverage."

"Oh-kay. And what does that have to do with me?"

"Eliot's been put out of commission. He suggested that we call you?"

"Me? And what part did Eliot play in this game of leverage?"

Seeing Nate hesitate, Hardison muted the line. "Took a quick look at them. Not only do they not have government ties, like no police, no IRS, nothing, it's like the gov'ment has a big red N-O-Do-Not-Go sign written all over them. Plus, you know El wouldn't do anything to put the rest'a us in danger. Man, he literally, like literally, just took a fall for us yesterday. It was him or me and Sophie and Parker. He wouldn't recommend someone he thought would leave us out there."

"Hey, you still there?"

Hardison quickly unmuted the line, nodding to Nate.

"Yeah, I'm here. Just had to consult with my team."

"There are more of you?"

"Four. Five including Eliot."

"Okay, Team Of Five. What would I be doing for you that Eliot already does for you that he can't do for you anymore."

Parker silently snickered in the background, Sophie giving her the eye.

"Eliot is our hitter. So you would be, too."

"Oooh, really?"

Nearly all of the teams' eyebrows went up. Parker shuddered.

"I'm assuming bad guys," Buffy added.

"We specialize in taking out bad guys."

"Tempting! Take me off speaker and let's talk."

Once again, the team shared a look between them. "It's a team, Ms. Summers-"

"Buffy."

"Buffy. We're a team. And while I do have the final say, we quite literally trust Eliot with our lives. If anyone is going to take his place we have to be able to trust you, too."

"Eh…I guess I can dig. Alright, where'm I going and how soon do you need me and what's the weather like so I can properly plan my wardrobe."

Now Sophie was grinning. "I trust her."

"This job comes with a shopping bestie? Oh, I am so there!"

Nate blinked slowly, shook himself then turned to Hardison. "Well then. Hardison, get our new hitter on a flight out to Boston."

"Seriously, Boston?"

"We'll see you when you get here, Buffy."

"Oh all right. Later new-team!"

Sophie, leaning over the back of the sofa said, "Let's go steal ourselves a backup hitter?"

Fin[ite]

* * *

 **Notes 2:** There are 2 more stories in this series. If I'm good, I'll post them over the next two weeks. If I'm not good, poke me ;)


	2. Anybody You Know?

**Title:** Anybody You Know?  
 **Author:** Vashti  
 **Fandom:** Leverage  
 **Character(s):** Eliot Spencer, Buffy Summers  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Summary:** The little blonde shouldn't have been able to take his weight, let alone turn his flying punch into a pile-driver.  
 **Length:** ~900 words  
 **Dedication:** Blame (or credit) Ava & Polgara are to blame for this story.  
 **Notes:** Written for the August 2017 TwistedShorts FAD.

* * *

"Who are you?" Eliot growled as he rolled over the back of the pretty blonde who should have been far too small and delicate to support his weight, let alone that weight plus his forward momentum.

Not only did she take it, but she gave Eliot enough of an upward push that he came at his target from above – his flying punch becoming a pile-driver. The target went down like his strings had been cut. Eliot spared him a second's more attention than he would have otherwise, but the sound of ongoing fighting behind him snatched him back.

"Hey!" he barked. Only three pairs of hostile eyes snapped in his direction when he could there were still five guys to take out.

The little blonde hitter used the distraction to take out another guy. "I wish all baddies were this easily distracted."

Eliot was never sure if the last two "baddies" were trying to rush him or flee the other hitter. And honestly? He tried not to think about it too much.

He snagged one with a clothesline, punching the other as the force of it spun them both around. It wouldn't take the second one down, but Eliot more than trusted the other hitter to take advantage of his disorientation.

Clothesline sent at punch to Eliot's gut that would leave him sore in the morning but- "Y'gotta hit a little higher if ya wanna knock the wind outta somebody," Eliot growled before demonstrating the proper punching form.

"These did seem like sub-standard henchmen," the little blonde hitter said conversationally as Eliot let go of the unconscious man. Between them there were at eight big men - tall, broad and well-muscled - knocked out cold on ground. Eliot would have been embarrassed by how many had been taken out by the blonde if he wasn't sure that he couldn't have taken them all himself. There had been too many of them and zero resources in the dusty, empty warehouse to use to his advantage.

Okay, so his three to her five was a little embarrassing, without ever factoring in that she was pretty, small and blonde. Heck, Eliot was pretty and, for a guy, kinda small. He made a horrible blonde, though. None of which were ever thoughts he thought about himself, no sir.

"Alright, who are you?" he demanded. "Who sent you?"

"Wow, aren't we growly."

It went against Eliot's personal code to hit women, even if he knew she could take nearly anything he could throw at her, but it was tempting.

"Answer the question."

Rolling her eyes, she turned around, took four steps and kicked a guy stirring from unconsciousness. "Sorry about that," she said as she returned. "You don't look very quippy, so I figured let's not make with the rematch. Fighting and quips just go together, y'know?"

Eliot growled.

She grinned. "I totally owe Sam and Riley a twenty. Each. Dude, you are, like, almost too easy."

Eliot's eyes narrowed. "You know the Finns?" He and Samantha had been in Basic at the same time at the same base. They'd hooked up for a while before being shipped out. News that she'd gotten married had been a surprise, but he'd been happy for her. She hadn't thought so at the time, but he'd already known she was the settling type and Eliot had been pretty sure he'd never stop moving.

"For sure! Riley said you might need some help—"

"I work alone."

"—and he knew I needed a vacation, so he suggested I see what the what was with you. Y'know, check out your latest Free The People gig. I wasn't exactly expecting to walk into a fight, but after all that sitting in Coach? A girl likes to stretch." Which she demonstrated by lacing her fingers together and throwing her arms up into a long, lengthy bridge that pulled her up onto her tiptoes.

If Eliot weren't so annoyed, he would have been intrigued. "I. Work. Alone."

The blonde hitter released the stretch, falling back into her small, neat package. "Ya. Like, I totally heard you. No need for the repeatings. Besides, Sam warned me already."

Eliot felt a vein throb on his forehead. Luckily one of the "substandard henchmen" by his feet twitched. Eliot delivered a swift, precise punch to his temple before he could so much as moan.

When he looked up, the blonde hitter's eyes were appraising and her little smile was pleased. "This could totally work." Stepping forward, she offered him her right hand. "Name's Buffy."

"Eliot," he growled back. But he accepted the hand: petite, slender, soft across the back and callused in unexpected places along the palm.

"Know any good places to eat around here, Eliot? Even fighting mediocre bad guys makes me stomach do a growly that could totally put your mean mug to shame."

"What?"

Buffy smiled. "You'll get it eventually," she said as she slipped her arm around his, prompting him to bend it to better accommodate her hand. "Sam did say you were a Southern gentleman at heart."

"What kind of name is Buffy, anyway?" he asked as they picked their way amongst the "baddies" and made their way across the warehouse, out onto the deserted street.

"And a bit of jerk. Sam mentioned that, too."

Instead of bothering to respond – Sam was right, after all – he said, "Where did you learn to fight?"

Buffy frowned at him. "Why?"

"It's a very distinctive style."

Fin[ite]

* * *

 **Notes 2:** There's one more story written for this series. It should be up next week-ish. I give you permission to poke me if it's not.


	3. Who Knows Somebody

**Title:** Who Knows Somebody  
 **Author:** Vashti  
 **Fandom:** Leverage  
 **Character(s):** Nathan Ford, Alec Hardison, Oz Osbourne, Buffy Summers  
 **Rating:** FR-13/PG  
 **Summary:** "Nate, man." Hardison shook his head before catching Nate's eye. "We don't call my boy in on this, the only thing Buffy's gonna be haulin' is our dead bodies out a hole."  
 **Length:** ~1,625 words  
 **Notes:** This is the last of the 3 stories I originally wrote for the August 2018 TwistedShorts FAD. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, comment, favorite...whatever. It is much appreciated!

* * *

"Look, Nate, man… I wouldn't say this if it wasn't serious-"

"Hardison, you need help." Nate clapped his hacker on the shoulder.

"Not help-help. Just, y'know, another pair of fingers on the keys. I can't be boots on the ground and eyes in the sky at the same time."

Nate frowned. "It's not like this will be the first time you've been an active participant in a con with us."

"Yeah, I know but..." Hardison shook his head, turning his attention back to the screen. His fingers danced over commands, popping up and dropping screens within seconds of each other. "Nate, man, this is in another level."

Pushing away from his keyboard, he turned his chair fully towards Nate. "Look, either you need another body on the team so I can concentrate on the screens full-time, or we gotta get somebody to cover for me. This just... We gonna be in it so deep not even Sophie will be able to talk us out of it."

Smirking, Nate said, "And Buffy?"

They'd only done two jobs with her so far, but Eliot's replacement hitter would have impressed them if she's been 6'4" and 200 lbs of pure muscle. But at 5'4" and 130 lbs they'd almost wrecked their first con with her from the shock. (Except Parker. Parker had been muttering about Hellmouths since that first phone call so technically she's hadn't done anything new or strange.)

"Nate, man." Hardison shook his head before catching Nate's eye. "We don't call my boy in on this, the only thing Buffy's gonna be haulin' is our dead bodies out a hole."

Well.

* * *

Nate didn't bother hiding his frown. Hardison, sitting next to him in front of the big screen, was all but vibrating with excitement next to him. "So you're the 'Wolf Man'."

"He's a beast!" Hardison blurted before his contact, looking at them from across a screen, could respond. He glanced up at Nate. "But the name was taken already, so we had to settle on Wolf Man."

"Not my first choice," the contact said with good humor.

"That's important. What's important is that Hardison says you're the best."

He shrugged. "Hardison is selling himself short if I'm the best. I can name a few better than me, but I'm not bad."

Grinning, Hardison turned to Nate. "See. An' he's humble."

It took all of Nate's willpower not to hush his teammate. "You've clearly won the heart of my hacker, but why should I trust you? Why would I put myself and my team at risk?"

Beside him Hardison went stiff with tension. They'd discussed why Nate needed to ask the question, but talking about it hadn't made Hardison any happier that it had to be asked. If they were going to be putting their lives in this man's hands as Hardison had claimed, Nate had to be convinced. Currently, none of his backup plans included a largely unknown hacker coming to their rescue. Obviously he'd have to fix that. And add a backup plan for if this "Wolf Man" double-crossed them.

"You didn't go through this when Eliot pushed Buffy at you," Hardison had argued.

"As you pointed out," Nate had reminded him, "Eliot IS the vetting process." And the double-cross backup plan, but he hadn't said that the Hardison. He hadn't wanted the younger man to dwell on the darkness that they all knew existed in Eliot, but mostly shielded from them.

In the here and now, the Wolf Man seemed completely unruffled by Nate's question. "You don't have a reason to trust me, other than Hardison's faith in me."

"Which is a lot!" Hardison tossed to the room at large.

"Even though he's never seen me in a team situation or under pressure."

At that, Hardison sat up and dropped his arms. "Hey! I have played many, many hours of World of Warcraft by your side. I know a team player when I'm the man not left behind by him, an' everybody else done already bailed."

"That is admirable," Nate said, and he supposed it was, but, "but it's different when you know the threats and the bullets and the crying and the desperate double-talk on the other side of the receiver are very real and very live."

Wolf Man nodded. "You're right," he said as conversationally as if Nate had told him that they needed were low on milk. "What kind of information do you need?"

"How about we start with a real name. Perhaps the one your mother calls you by," Nate said. Beside him, Hardison spluttered.

"Oz!"

Surprised, Nate and Hardison turned. "Where'd you come from?" Hardison said as the newly christened Oz said, "Buffy?"

Nate looked between the unassuming man on the monitor and the unassuming woman crashing his teleconference in workout gear. "You two know each other?"

Hardison's eyes bugged. "Wait, what? Y'all know each other?"

"Totally," Buffy confirmed. "We went to school together. How do you guys know-" She sucked in a breath. "Oz, are you okay? Why didn't you call one of us if you're in trouble?" She stepped closer to the screen as if that would bring her closer to the man pictured in it. "It doesn't matter how long it's been or what went down, you're still our friend, totally and for sure."

Smiling softly, Oz said, "Actually Nate and Hardison called me. To help out on a case?" The last he directed at Nate.

"Oh. Really?" Buffy turned to Nate. "So what's the what, Temp Bossman?"

Nate squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Buffy I've asked you not to call me that."

"I know, but it'll have to do until I figure out a better nickname." She turned back to Oz. "I was fond of The Head Cheese," she said, making vague circular gestures around her head as she did, "but it was voted down as too complicated with the hand movements."

Hardison snorted. "Nah, it's because whenever Parker does it, something priceless or messy goes flying around the room."

"There was that one time Parker went flying around the room."

"Priceless and messy. And it wasn't a room, it was Lucille. Nah."

Oz chuckled.

"We missed you," Buffy said. "All of us."

Oz's chuckle turned into a smile. "Yeah, me too. I noticed there was some big juju a while back."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Too long to discuss over the phone. This is like dinner and a whole bottle of wine discussion. But you heard about the 'dale, right."

"Sank into the ocean?"

"Yeah."

"I heard about it. Bay used to keep me up on news from home."

"Who's Bay?"

"Bayarmaa. My wife."

Buffy squealed. The men collectively winced.

Sensing that he was never going to regain control of the conversation naturally, Nate put a hand on Buffy's shoulder. "What do you know of Wol- er, Oz's computer skills?"

"Assuming he hasn't, like, gone backwards, Oz is my second favorite computer genius. Sorry, Hardison," she said glancing over her shoulder at him. "It's really close!" she added as he began to splutter. They'd already come to terms with him not being her first favorite, but he'd always assumed that meant he was second.

Before he could verbalize his outrage, however, Hardison visibly calmed himself. "It's cool! It's cool. My man the Wolf Man has been in the game longer and he's a real cool cat." He looked to Oz. "You're a cool cat, man."

"Thank you," Oz responded with like seriousness as Buffy's eyebrows went up and she repeated, "Wolf Man?"

"If I have to come in third behind any geek, I don't mind coming in behind the Wolf Man."

Nate leaned in close to Buffy and stage-whispered, "'He's a Beast' was already taken."

"Oookay. Not only am I sure I don't want to know, but I'm sure I don't need to know." She turned to Nate. "I really just came up to check on you. Your place is on tonight's route, so when I saw your light on I thought I'd pop in. Make sure everything's okay."

Nate sighed. "I know you can handle yourself Buffy, but I still wish you wouldn't take post-midnight runs."

"Still patrolling, Buffy?" Oz asked.

Smiling ruefully, she said, "There are literally, like, a hundred of me on this coast alone and I still can't help myself."

"You wouldn't be yourself if you could."

Buffy's smile grew warmer. "It's really good to see you, Oz."

"You, too, Buffy."

She gave him a little salute before turning to Nate and Hardison. "Since it looks like everything is five-by-five here, I think I'm gonna finish my run."

Nate narrowed his eyes at her, for the first time suspecting that running wasn't all that she was doing. He watched as she stood on tiptoe to hook an arm around Hardison's neck and gave him a hasty hug. When she turned to Nate, she offered him her hand. Usually it got an amused frown out of him. Tonight, he said, "So you recommend Oz?"

"Totally for sure."

"He's good under pressure."

A knowing smirk lit her face. "You have no idea."

Nate accepted her handshake, resisting the urge to kiss her forehead and tell her to keep safe. Parker rarely let him get close enough to be tempted.

Buffy turned to the screen. "Guess that means I'll see you around?"

"Anytime the signal's good."

Buffy frowned. "Where are you? Outer Mongolia?"

"Outer Tibet."

"Okay. I walked into that. Um, well...yeah. Okay. This is where I leave the awkward conversation so I can make an awkward exit."

Then she was gone, leaving the three men to an equally awkward silence. "So," Nate said before it got any worse, "welcome to the team."

"Thanks. Temp Boss."

Nate groaned.

Fin[ite]

* * *

 **Notes 2:** And that's officially it. Will there be more? No clue. August is coming ;) Will there be more _before_ August? Who knows. If something does come to me, it will end up here. :)


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